


Pour the tea

by Euny_Sloane



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale eats, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Food, Friendship, Gen, Hot Chocolate, Recipes, Sex Work, Silly, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, or really just a reference to it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22444906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euny_Sloane/pseuds/Euny_Sloane
Summary: Based on this prompt: https://good-omens-prompts.tumblr.com/post/190493803751/madame-tracy-sips-hot-chocolate-with-aziraphaleBasically: Madame Tracy and Aziraphale sip hot chocolate.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Madame Tracy (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 37





	Pour the tea

**Author's Note:**

> This is barely suggestive, and there is reference to some toys used in a kink context, but nobody uses them (or even picks them up) and there's nothing sexual between the fic characters.

The room was softly lit by lace-edged lamps, and over the gently ticking clock came a thoroughly indecent moan. 

A sigh. 

A gasp. “Oh! It stings!”

She hummed in agreement, in quiet rapture, interrupted only by quiet slurping noises. “I know, it hurts a bit, but doesn’t it set off the sweetness?” 

With a tinkle of fine china, Aziraphale set down his spicy hot chocolate. “Oh my dear, you're so right. It's the contrast of pleasure and pain that's so delightful.” 

Madame Tracy smirked. “You'll find that holds in an awful lot of places, Mr. Aziraphale.” Although she didn't wink, she gave the impression of someone ever on the verge of it. Maybe her surfeit of laugh lines, the over-generous smile. 

Or it could have been the neat wall display of floggers, cat ‘o’ nines, gags, and sturdy cuffs behind her, arrayed next to a glittery pink St. Andrew’s Cross. 

Aziraphale hmmed, and chuckled, and took another sip: sweet, hot, and almost unbearably lush. 

Almost. Aziraphale could bear quite a lot in the pursuit of pleasure. 

“Some people,” Madame Tracy inclined her head as if gesturing through her door, to her partner’s, across the hall,” think it's too rich.”

“Never!” objected Aziraphale, thoroughly scandalized. 

“Really! And not just him. Some won't even finish half of it. Let it go cold on them. Don’t want to finish it after that.” 

“That is a travesty.” Aziraphale's was already half gone. “A sin.”

“Pity, too. Let it get cold and it sets up like a soft chocolate pot de crème.” 

Aziraphale briefly considered whether it was worth the wait to find out how luscious that could be. 

He took another sip instead. 

After another long, lip smacking sip, she sighed. “Almost better than dancing.”  
Aziraphale considered his time at the gentleman's club, and a recent attempt Crowley made to "get us out of the house for once, we're only a few thousand years old,” ending in a noisy, smelly discotheque, and considered. “You know, I think that really must depend on the dance.” 

“And whether it's vertical, dear?”

Aziraphale's flush was surely due to the spiced hot chocolate. He cleared his throat. “How do you make it?”

“It's not too difficult. I usually tell people it's my secret recipe, but since we've already shared so much…”

Aziraphale laughed. He still remembered the feel of resting as a squished-in passenger alongside her soul. 

“Promise you won’t stop when I tell you what’s in it.”

“Never!” 

“Well, first you steep the right dried peppers in a bit of cream - can’t be milk, has to be cream, although coconut cream will work. Nice fellow down the street can’t handle dairy milk, so I messed about a bit to find something for him.”

Aziraphale hummed attentively, then wrinkled his brow as he moved to pick up his cup, only to find it nearly empty. 

“Once you’ve got that good and hot - but never boiling - you whisk in some milk - any kind, really, get it nice and hot too, and then add a good pile of chocolate, chopped to bits, and turn the gas down low.”

“What about the peppers?”

“Oh! Oh, you take those out just as soon as they color the cream a bit. I stick a finger in it to taste it, make sure it’s not too spicy, before I add the milk in.” She noticed his empty cup. “There’s a titch more on the hob, love, if you’d like.”

Aziraphale lit up. “Oh?”

“You just go get it for yourself, if you don’t mind? My knees have just about had it today.”

“Busy day?” Aziraphale called, already halfway to her little kitchen. 

“Heavens, was it ever. I know I said I’m ready to retire, but a couple of my clients had some sessions booked already and I hate to disappoint.”

Aziraphale, pot in hand, set to decanting the thick, dark chocolate into his cup. “Oh my dear, you could never disappoint. Now, tell me all about your plans to find a cottage by the seaside for you and your fellow.” He settled in with a comfortable sigh and a wiggle. “What is it the young people say these days? Pour the tea?”


End file.
